


I See You Lying Next To Me (Just Sleep)

by Fabuluos_Killjoys



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Brothers, Family, Nighmares, based of the story behind the spoken part, based off the song sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13098699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabuluos_Killjoys/pseuds/Fabuluos_Killjoys
Summary: “Mikey.” My voice cracks, fuck, I sound so broken. “Mikey, there, there are these tremors…” I swallow, to try and get control of my voice. “No, not tremors, they are worse than tremors.” I think for a moment. “There are these terrors, and its like, it feels like as if someone was gripping my throat and squeezing…”--------Based of the story behind the spoken part of 'Sleep'





	I See You Lying Next To Me (Just Sleep)

I sit straight up in bed, and desperately claw at my neck, trying to find the thing rapped around it. But am met with nothing.  
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.   
Mikey  
Mikey  
Mikey  
Where’s Mikey.  
I look around the room desperately, to find that I’m not where I thought I was. I’m not in a burning building. I’m in my room, in the Paramore mansion. Breathe, Gerard, breathe. It was a dream.   
Wasn’t it?   
I start to rock back and forth, back and forth. Trying to focus on the rocking to steady my breathing, but I wasn’t working.   
It can’t have been a dream; I remember it so vividly.  
There was a building, and, and Mikey was in there and I remember the heat of the flames, and the ear wrenching sound of him screaming for help, and I remember trying to get into the house, but not being able to find him.   
I fucking couldn’t find him.   
He was screaming my name out. Over and over again. Begging for help, begging for me to save him. And I couldn’t breathe, I remember screaming back.   
I remember.  
So how could it be a dream. 

Its only know that I realise that I’m shaking. Violently. My entire body, And I can’t move. Its like I’m stuck in place. I clench my eyes shut, and desperately try to picture anything but the nightmare, bit I fail, all I can see is the orange flames swallowing the building whole. Somehow my hands find my hair, and tangle themselves in it and begin to pull tightly. Over and over all I can see is the same scene of the fire.   
Eventually I manage to control my breathing, but I don’t move from the same position, knees up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I can’t go back to sleep now. I can’t see that again.   
So instead I just sit there. Still. Not doing anything, only thinking about Mikey. Why was it him that I saw? Why was it only him? Was it because of him wanting to leave the band? 

At some point the sun rose, and light started to seep through the curtains. But I didn’t move, not an inch. I stayed in the same position I had been in for hours, just thinking, about things I didn’t want to think about.   
A few hours after sunrise, someone came into my room, “Hey gee, you coming down for breakfast?” oh, it was Frank. I Didn’t reply, but didn’t need to as he continued almost instantly. “Gee, you okay?” I manage to turn my head, look at him, and nod slightly. “ill be down in a sec.” I say blandly. There was not a trace of emotion in my voice. He nods and exits the room.   
As promised I go down stairs a few minutes later, not even bothering to check if I look presentable. As I get to the bottom of the steps, the first things my eyes land on, Is my brother. Thank god he’s safe. I let out a light sigh of relief, and go and join the others on the couch. The conversation is light, as most breakfast conversations are. Mostly random comments about the supposedly haunted mansion we are staying in and small laughs from the group. And I try to take part where I can, but in the end, don’t contribute much from the conversation. Slowly, we all finish our breakfast, and put the dishes back. “Hey, I’m going to go back to my room guys, see if I can do some writing or something.” I mention, once breakfast is packed up, the band nods, and all agree they should go and get some down time before the show this afternoon, I don’t hear the end of the conversation though, as I have already left, and am one again climbing the stairs to my hotel room. 

Once I reach my room, I sit down with a note pad, and attempt to start writing lyrics for our new record. I stare down at the empty paper, and try and think.   
Noting.   
Suddenly there’s a light nock on my door. “yeah, come in.” I say, as the door opens to reveal my brother. “Hey Mikey.”  
“Hey Gerard.”  
“What Is it?” I ask, trying to not let my voice waver.   
“Um, well, Gee, are you okay?”  
I nod in reply, by reflex. “why’d you ask?” he pauses for a second before continuing.  
“well its just you have really big bags under your eyes, like bigger that usual. And I mean you where shaking all the way through breakfast this morning.” He pauses, “Also Frank talked to me this morning and told me that you acting weird.” He pauses for a second before looking down and continuing to talk. “Gee, if… if you’ve started the drugs again…”  
I look own at my hands, and find that I am in fact shaking again.   
I look back up at Mikey.   
“Mikey.” My voice cracks, fuck, I sound so broken. “Mikey, there, there are these tremors…” I swallow, to try and get control of my voice. “No, not tremors, they are worse than tremors.” I think for a moment. “There are these terrors, and its like, it feels like as if someone was gripping my throat and squeezing…” I shut my eyes tightly, and place my head in my hands. Trying not to picture the horrors I saw last night. “Sometimes I see flames. And, and sometimes I see people that I love dying and…” I don’t tell him that he was the one I saw dying. I can’t. “and I can’t… I can’t ever wake up.” I can feel Mikey sit down on the bed next to me, and place a hand on my back. We are both silent for a few minutes.  
“How about I sleep in here. I can’t really sleep in this place anyway, the fact that people say its haunted freaks me out, so it will help both of us?” I think about it for a second, if i have the same night terror again I will know he’s here, and alive. Slowly I nod in agreement, and take my head out of my hands.   
“Yeah, ok.” He nods and stands up, “why don’t we go out somewhere before the show? Just the two of us?” I shake my head.   
“No.” is all I reply. He nods firmly.   
“okay, well I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He smiles at me, and I smile weakly back at him. And with that he turns around and leaves quietly.   
As soon as the door closes I sigh heavily and burry my head in my hands once again.   
Its okay, it’ll be alright. I have Mikey to keep me safe. 

That night, we finished the show early. Not super early, only like 20 minutes. But still early. As soon as we walked into the door of the hotel, I went straight to my room. I have no reason to talk to people, yet no reason to sit alone either, so I choose the personal preference. Alone.   
One again I get out my note pad, except this time to draw, not to write. I pick up an expensive pencil from the tin, and check the number on it. HB. Good enough. I don’t really think about what I draw; I sort of just start. After a few minutes, I realise that I’m drawing the burning house from my dream. I should stop, but I can’t. Maybe seeing it on paper will help. I draw, and draw, at some point I put down the lead pencil, and pick up my coloured pencils. I spend who knows how long colouring the picture. When I finally take a step back, put the pencils down, and look at what I’ve done, I’m breathless. It looks so realistic. Its exactly what I saw in that horror. Every detail. And the brightness of the flames is almost blinding. The way the flames are bent and curves are exactly the same, the lighting of the building is worryingly accurate.   
Its terrifying.   
I quickly pick up he note pad, and throw it across the room, images of the burning house filling my vision.   
Even from across the room, the drawing is staring at me. So I run over to it, and rip the page out.   
How can a bad dream possibly scare me this much? Even during the day?  
I leave the page turned upside down, on the floor, and pick up the note book, close it and put it back on my bedside table. I then continue to lay back on my bed, rest my arms behind my head, and stare up at the ceiling. I don’t understand what’s happened to my mind. How am I that broken, and anxious that a nightmare scared the living shit out of me, to the point where I can’t function properly. I was right earlier. Its like I can never wake up. 

A few hours later, there’s a knock on my door. I don’t answer, but the person walks n anyway.   
“Hey, Gee, I was going to go to bed, do you want me to sleep on the floor?” I turn to look at him, to see that he has his bedding in one hand, and a pillow in the other, with a roll out yoga mat under one of his arms.   
“Um yeah, sure, to you want help setting it up?” he shakes his head.   
“Nah I’ve got it, don’t worry.” I nod and look back up at the ceiling. After a few minutes of rustling around, I hear him go and turn the light off, which presumably means he has finished setting up, and wants to sleep.   
“Thanks for doing this Mikey” I say as he lays down.   
“Don’t worry about it Gee, It’s out job to look after each other, that what brothers do.” He stops for a second, then continues. “plus I’m getting creeped out about all of this haunted house stuff.” I let out a little chuckle.   
“Would you have guessed? Mikey Way. Member of My Chemical Romance, and bad ass bass player, afraid of a few stories.” He gives out a little laugh as well. “Hey, you can’t talk, you’re in your twenty’s and still believes in black cats and walking under ladders.” I huff at him.   
“Well if you want bad luck, then go ahead, but I’m good being safe for now.” We continue the little bants for a while, before he says he really tired, and tells me he wants to get some sleep, I comply, and quiet down.   
After a few minutes his breathing evens out, and I can tell he’s asleep. I sigh and sit up, resting my head against the wooden headboard. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to face that fire again. I’ve already let it fuck me over this much. I don’t want to completely shatter. So instead I sit there, like I’ve been doing most of the day. Except this time, I don’t stare at the ceiling. I stare at my brother. I have to make sure nothing happens to him. I have to see that he’s safe. 

After a few hours, I decide to, for the third time today, pick up my note book. Except for once I know what I’m going to write. 

I see you lying next to me.  
With words I thought I’d never speak.  
Awake and dead  
Asleep and unafraid.

I cross out the last to lines and rewrite it.

I see you lying next to me.  
With words I thought I’d never speak.  
Awake and unafraid,  
Asleep or dead. 

That’s it.  
That’s all I write. Just s few lyrics.   
But just a few lyrics can mean so much. 

That night, I don’t get any sleep, but I lay there, eyes on Mikey. Making sure he’s safe.   
Because that’s what brothers do. Look after each other, even when we don’t need it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, check out my Tumblr if you want (Fabuluos-Killjoys)


End file.
